Then, a walrus comes waddling down the road with surprising speed from nowhere in particular. He lacks some of the casual elegance of the local wildlife, but he's well dressed, as walruses go. He has a necktie.

He also has a clipboard, which is really central to his purpose here. He makes sure it's flipped to a fresh sheet, and then knocks on the open frame of the door to the computer room.

"Excuse me, do you have a few minutes to answer some questions about magic?"

"Hmm? The magic survey? I thought that was made up. Oh, do come in, it's a public space here."

Hammond waddles in, setting his clipboard on a computer desk and hopping up into one of the chairs with surprising grace.

"Thank you. And no, I can assure you that it's quite real. My fellow canvassers and I have been sent around by the Will of Magic to determine what kind of magic it should become, in your universe," he explains. "Well ... technically I'm a subcontractor; the Will of Magic didn't send me directly. But it's definitely real!"

"You certainly appear to be, at the least, an alien. Or someone with extremely good costuming skills. That's enough reason to treat this with all due seriousness. Magic... You know, there are people who will tell you we already have some."

"Ah — yes, this has come up a bit. By 'magic' I actually mean something technical and specific," he explains. "Your physics in this universe is fundamentally based around predictable interactions between excitations in a handful of underlying quantum fields, the evolution of which can be described by a small number of equations. Within that framework, the universe contains many strange and wondrous things."

"But there are still limits imposed by the nature of the universe that no physical system can break. The coming of 'magic' represents the laws of physics here undergoing a phase change from the current mechanistic system into — well, almost anything, including things that aren't possible under the current framework. Tell me, are you familiar with computational complexity theory?"

"Ah, so tail diamonds really are just physics, not the power of the mind to impose upon the world... Let's assume I'm not. Unless you mean it in an algorithmic sense? Sorting algorithms? The word choice is a bit odd..."

"It's the theory of what is possible to compute in what amount of time on an idealized computer. Basically, there is a class of algorithms that no physical computer could ever solve in time linear in the size of the problem, but that a new magical computer built after the coming change potentially could, depending on what people choose," Hammond says.

Then he coughs.

"But, ah, I'm really supposed to be asking you questions about that instead of getting into abstract math. Even if the first question does kind of touch on it. Tell me: do you think that magic should be 'hard' — that is, based on a set of repeatable, mechanical rules — or 'soft' — based on something more abstract and less predictable, such as language or emotions? This is also more of a spectrum, rather than an either-or question; I can take down a more complex answer if you have one, or we can skip any questions you don't want to answer."

"I'm going to close my eyes and think for a moment."

He does so, hands folded serenely in front of him, tails flicking semi-randomly occasionally.

"...How many words will you tolerate from me on this? The short version is- I, personally, would feel more at home with hard magic, but I believe the kitsune as a whole- I can't speak to other species- Would prefer soft magic."

"I will tolerate as many words as you want to say," Hammond promises. "I'm ... somewhat verbose myself. But more importantly, the way magic works in my world is intrinsically tied to jobs in a way that means that I know for sure that I'm going to enjoy doing this job, and that I will have the skills necessary to make it work, if I put the effort in. So I know I wouldn't have been sent to talk to anyone who was going to manage to annoy me. So please, take your time and speak fully."

"As for your second point — yes, we know that people can't speak for everyone. My bosses, the, uh, direct emissaries of the Will of Magic, take all of the answers that we collect, and sort through them to determine a consensus. I'm not sure exactly how they do it, but I'm reliably informed that it is a fair, unbiased process. So, while it's always a good idea to think through what other people might want, in this case I want to hear your opinions specifically. They'll be combined with everyone else's thoughts across your species and others later."

"...Mmh. I am, in the strictest definition, an engineer. Of sorts. It is a triumph to see the mechanical, mathematical underpinnings of the world, and to then build tools, that build tools, that build tools, that shape the world to our will. Look! Look at this!"

Suddenly animated, he stands and points to the LED lighting above.

"A transformed stone, which magically emits light! And there, a rock which has been made to speak to its kin far, far away! And behind this wall are a legion of automated smiths and artisans, the workings of which have trillions of hours of effort by billions of different people, collectively, contributing to them. And I can help it along. One more brick in the wall."

He gestures to his computer screen, which currently has a 3D rendering of some sort of aircraft, partly exploded into a design view.

"I don't personally need to understand how to dig green rocks out of the ground and heat them up to make a crude copper knife. My ancestors have done that long ago. But... There is still progress to be made. In a hundred years, what will we have built? I would feel a deep sense of wonder at magic if it could be... Discovered, iterated upon, built forward. In a way that I feel would be, diminished, if someone could just... Want hard enough, and not do the detail work, and have it not matter..."

"Ah, I see. So the important thing for you is that magic have details that are both possible and necessary to discover, understand, and build on? How would you feel about a system that was technically mechanistic, and that permitted designing technology in the way you describe, but that had a much more complex 'fundamental' level than your current physics do?"

"Hmmmm. Well, physics is already more complicated than we used to think it was. That seems fine to me. I won't even insist that it always explain itself eventually. And endlessly changing physics that can keep being discovered by those who enjoy that particular mode of discovery might be nice! Not that any of these aesthetical considerations should override the praxis: Magic should make things better and not worse."

"Oh — an endlessly changing physics does sound interesting," he agrees. "But noted: I'll put everything else down as secondary to 'magic should make things better'."

He flips to a fresh page.

"Could you elaborate a little on what exactly you mean by 'better', just to make sure we're on the same page?"

He does a little bow sort of motion, balanced by tails spreading out behind him. Local body language for something between a shrug and an apology.

"I'm not sure it could be defined simply. I would prefer magic that performs inscrutable miraculous healing to one that is mechanical and iterative as I described but mostly useful for making elaborate weapons."

"Alright, that's fine," Hammond says, moving on. "What things do you think magic should definitely be able to accomplish, one way or another?"

"Dealing with the tail curse. That is, our messy biology. If genetic science does not solve that first. They have been trying, and failing, for some time. Healing, strengthening... Changing of the body. Restoring our ancestors to life. Or, at the very least, communicating with them. But not trivially. It needs to be... Difficult. I don't care if it's an infeasible thing, computationally, to- To backtrace every particle and wave through the field of spacetime sufficient to discern the firing of neurons and- Our entire religious practice is- Well, I won't bore you with the theological details, but a connection to the abstract, 'our ancestors', our history, those who came before us, is important. As are specific ancestors. My mother, Hana Mari la Nar, my teacher Ingo Jai la Tsu, my great grandfather Vak Sai la Nar. This- The foundation of our society and traditions are, in many ways... A burden. Cords wrapped around something both strengthen, and bind."

He weaves his fingers together around the end of a tail in a mostly subconscious gesture.

"Those who came before us. Those who will come after. I am a chain link, a brick in the wall. But what if that piece of chain has nothing to hold up anymore? No burden to bear? Community is helping each other. And I think the things discovered when you need others and others need you have value. I've seen a few translated alien movies, and they seem so... Cruel and lonely and crazy. They find one person to marry, sometimes. One! It feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, if your safety net is just one other person. What if they need help? What if magic changes the incentives and destroys community? Perhaps it would only do that by making you need less help, but... It's... Scary to think about."

Apology-tail-gesture again.

"I got a little off track, sorry."

"No worries. That's a good list to start with. And you don't need to worry about what is or is not computationally feasible — there have definitely been magic systems that do not care about computational feasibility, so your world could definitely have one as well," Hammond advises.

"When you worry about magic destroying community: would you prefer a system where magical effects take multiple people working together to accomplish?"

"As opposed to one where it does not? Yes, that feels much more correct. There are plenty of old traditions said to help secure a clan if everyone does them. Old monasteries and such. The clan stone, the clan ropes, artifacts like that with traditions attached, some thousands of years old. It might be nice if such things had a sort of magical weight, not just cultural importance. The more people who have touched and believed... Perhaps I'm imagining it wrong though."

"Magic can work in almost any way you can think of; the hard part of this job is making sure that I have what you're thinking of written down correctly," Hammond tells him. "So descriptions like that are helpful. What are you imagining the effects of an item gaining 'magical weight' to be? That it would more and more have the powers that people believe that it does?"

"Well, I don't know, really. I suppose you'd call it... Animist traditions. The idea that symbols of institutions or clans learn what it is like to be themselves, and then help that continue occurring. Our clan stone, the Junnoe stone, has been touched by every member of the clan for over six hundred years and it sits at the lowest basement point of the clan compound. Supposedly making it not a home, but our home, specifically. Then you have crew ropes on ships. Every member of the crew adds some of their tail fur to the rope, and it means that the ship and crew act as one. There are badges of office, old bronze or jade ornaments passed on to those chosen for some very ancient monk traditions that will grant insight and connection to the deep well of history. That kind of thing... I realize this is at odds with the more mechanistic trend I supported earlier. Perhaps both this and something more immediate. Rituals in general."

He shrugs.

"Ah, I see."

Hammond spends a moment capturing this in detail.

"There have definitely been magic systems in the past that contain multiple 'parts' like that, so if that's the best way to reconcile everyone's desires it's a real possibility," he remarks. "Circling back — are there any other things that magic should definitely be able to do, or are those all the ones you can think of?"

"I'd like to be able to both make magic things and do magic more directly? General biological changes, maybe something to help keep complicated systems like ecologies in balance. I don't know if you'll have noticed or heard the story there...? Something to deal with storms, or produce energy, or create easy space-lift?"

He nods. "Those all make sense. And I might have heard the story before, but you should tell me in your own words, since it's relevant to what you want magic to do."

Deep breath and a solemn look.

"...We die easy. We call it 'cascading', as in a metabolic cascade breakdown. Our bodies simply... Lack a lot of feedback mechanisms that sensibly designed animals generally have. We don't sweat or regulate temperature properly.  Endocrine stuff, we don't balance hormones and vitamins properly, or store fat, or have capacity to skip sleep. Instead of the body sending signals to deal with these things, causing stress and tiredness or what have you, we mostly continue to feel fine right up until we collapse and die. The toxin and hormonal issues are the worst to deal with, you can track how often you're eating and drinking and sleeping if you're careful. But you can't intuitively track how much albusine-3-actinase is in your blood. Nowadays we have internal biomonitors and pharmacopeias to help with that."

He tugs down the top of his garment and taps on a small shiny plastic plate, located just to the side of the sternum.

"A lot of the plants and animals, almost all of them in fact, are mostly the same way. They will collapse and die for no clear reason and it takes a lot of effort to keep ecosystems stable. And we thought this was normal for a long time. How every biosphere would evolve. Until we discovered old monuments describing how our species and ecology was designed, and then met aliens. General opinion is, uh... That the Creators, whoever they were, got killed by something before they could finish the work. But it would be really nice to have... A normal fucking body instead of a house of cards? Genetic modification work has gotten us better crops but not made much progress on our own bodies yet."

"I understand where you're coming from," Hammond admits. "I'm lucky enough to have a reasonably robust native biology, but my form still isn't really designed for much more than lying around on ice flows and hunting fish. I've had to do a lot of work to handle things like non-arctic climates and pencils."

He finishes jotting the latest round of notes, and then flips the page.

"Since we're on the topic of death, and you've already mentioned your ancestors — how do you feel about an 'afterlife' system, where people persist in some way after the death of their body? Both 'should there be one', and, if so, what should it be like? I ask because it comes up strangely often, across worlds."

"There are people who will insist we already have one, that the ancestors rest and spectate and watch over us from it, healthy and free. That sounds perfectly fine to me? It'd be nice to be young and robust again even in a different layer of existence. Some way to come back to life fully would be good, but really just preventing - ending - for everyone who does not very determinedly want that-"

"Right, I quite agree. And I'm afraid I can't comment on whether you already have one — it's just one of the questions I'm supposed to cover either way."

He makes a checkmark.

"Okay — we've covered what magic should be able to do; what shouldn't magic be able to do? What limits, if any, do you think there should be?"

"Hmmmmm. It should be quite difficult for small groups or lone actors to cause massive destruction with magic? I suppose? To a large extent, energy is energy. For example, a nuclear power plant could kill people if you threw them into the chamber or used the electricity it produces to do that. Anything can hurt people if you're creative or determined, but that's not what it's for... I should be being more creative. What sorts of things to people commonly say here?"

"Ah — that's an insightful question! Filtering out the things you've already covered ..."

He flips to the back of his notes to refresh himself.

"I've had people rule out time travel, either certain kinds or generally; some people want it to be impossible to hurt people in a way that is impossible to eventually heal from; some people want it to be impossible to do magic without explicitly intending to; some people want to rule out 'negative' effects generally, however they define that; some people list specific things they don't like, such as infectious curses or dead bodies animated by magic. One group of people really wanted it to be impossible to use magic to make your hair not be red. Another group wanted to rule out any means of remotely attaining information about a private space. There's really a lot of variety. Does that help?"

"Okay, wow. I also think time travel should probably not be a thing. That's... You could get into all sorts of weird game-theoretic negotiating positions with travel to the past to undo the present on the table. That's not good, too complicated for most people to follow and kind of... If history can be rewritten, the chain broken and remade, what are we even for? It reminds me of the simulation theory... I'd rather not be simulated by magic either actually. Pausing things seems fine, or say, perfectly retrieving information about past events, or producing a heuristics-based prophecy about likely future outcomes but not one that is completely guaranteed to happen... I have to assume that red hair is some sort of social signal. Actually on that note I don't think - hmm. Ugh, no. General biomantic powers would be able to add or remove tails. But there's a certain... Status to them. It'd be nice if our tails were, in fact, actually magical and magically important somehow, and maybe had to be earned properly instead of just happening over time. Or at the very least, could be put off if you don't want them? Yes, I think that magic should not be able to give you more tails whenever you want, or take them away once you have them. I bet that sounds just as silly as the red hair thing to an outside perspective."

"A little," Hammond admits. "As an alien, I find it somewhat strange that you wouldn't try to solve the health complications around your tails by just getting rid of them. But my opinion isn't really relevant — they're your tails."

"So we've covered what magic should and shouldn't be able to do, as well as a bit of how it should be done. You answered the destiny questions before I got to them, and we covered afterlives ... let me see ..."

"How do you think people should start knowing things about magic? The animism and special status of tails both tie into your existing mythology, but you also seemed quite enthusiastic about the process of discovering and building things by experimentation. When magic comes, what should people start off knowing, and what should be left to be discovered?"

"If resurrection or contact with an afterlife is possible I don't see any reason to rob discovery lovers of the process."

He nods.

"What kinds of activities do you imagine being part of that process of discovery? What should learning things about magic be like?"

"Hmm. I think I have question fatigue. Also, it should be like attending engineering college andor apprenticing in a workers union. Or like being a monk, all meditation and mastery of mind and body. Maybe there can be two parallel tracks."

"Ah — perfectly understandable. We've covered the important points, so we can stop here. One last question, then: do you feel your answers are complete as they stand, and I should go hand them in, or would you like a follow-up session once you've had some time to rest?"

"I don't know that I have substantially more input. I've never thought about magic before, not seriously, and don't really know the implications or tradeoffs of various ways it could be. It feels like the council polls we take sometimes, where all I can really say with certainty is how I feel about various end consequences."

"Yes, that's a good comparison," Hammond agrees. "Alright then. I'll take your feedback to my bosses. It will take them a few days to compile everyone's feedback into a unified recommendation for the Will of Magic. Bringing magic into the world takes an unpredictable amount of time, usually between a few days and a few weeks, although occasionally it takes longer. Thank you so much for taking the time to answer my questions."

When it seems like Yan Shim la Nar has nothing more to add, Hammond hops down from his chair and makes his polite goodbyes. His next stop is quite a large distance away — or it would be, for a less magical walrus. He finds his way there in a matter of minutes. He stops on the threshold of the building listed on his schedule, and straightens his tie.

This one is a cozy three story wooden house in some woods. There's a garden. It seems less developed and carefully optimized for cultivation than the other area. A one-tail is practicing martial arts in the front yard with a wooden staff. Music spills out of the open door.

"Excuse me," Hammond asks the martial artist. "But I'm looking for Osal Shan la Luo — do you know where I should go?"

He startles upon seeing the walrus approaching, but finishes the kata, another twenty seconds or so, then brings the staff to a rest position and does a lazy slouch.

"...Huh, okay."

Yep, alien. How'd they manage to sneak onto the surface of the planet without those army types screaming like mad? Maybe they got invited down for some reason, since the whole establishment has gone mad lately. 

What's the right response here? Stall?

"...Mhm. Why? And who're you?"

"I'm Hammond Burns. Pleased to meet you. And I've been sent as an emissary — well, technically a subcontractor" he coughs. "—of the Will of Magic to ask people some survey questions about how they think magic ought to work. Osal Shan la Luo is next on my list. I can come back later, if now isn't a good time, though."

"And you knew to come here by... Presumably magic?"

He takes out a tablet computer and browses news feeds; Strike solidarity, gifts for essential services still operating, investigation in Unity is still continuing... Oh, there's some people reporting various alien sightings.

"...Huh. Huh. Hmm."

Suspicious glare.

"I'm a little concerned about, like. Microbes."

Anyway he should be fine himself. The weapons are well hidden and he doesn't talk with the cell except on "hikes".

"By magic, yes," Hammond agrees. "Or, well, I have a list, at least. I assume the bosses generated it with magic, but they might have just consulted census records or something. And it's reasonable of you to worry about microbes, but ever since I did a stint as a janitor in a hospital, I've been immune to disease. My bosses checked everyone who was sent to make sure we wouldn't disrupt things."

"That's so reassuring. I am reassured."

Sigh.

"I'll go-"

"ALIEN!! HI! HELLO!!" Someone else calls from a second story window.

"Oh cripes. Fei! He's here to talk to Osal! Specifically Osal!"

Hammond adjusts his tie nervously.

"Yes, I'm sorry. The bosses gave me a list, and I'm supposed to follow it to reduce sampling bias, you see," he explains. "But if Osal wants to take your opinions into account while answering, that's not actually against the rules."

"I'll go get her-!"

"Fei, do not- You'll leave her alone, so help me, you know she'd hate having everyone weighing in on this."

"Awwwwwwww fine..."

The glaring kitsune with the staff goes back to his katas.

Eventually, a black-furred kitsune who is not especially distinguishable from most of the others comes out. If anything her posture and mannerisms are the most telling, very tentative, quiet, and seeking-to-be-small despite her above average height.

"Um... Magic questions? I think the garage is... The best balance between quiet and comfy right now. There's a music competition on..."

"I'm sure the garage will be fine," Hammond reassures her. "I'm Hammond Burns; you're Osal Shan la Luo?" he checks.

"Yes. I'm Osal... Umm... Is this magic more like old folk stories or...?"

"It's like whatever you think it should be like," Hammond tells her in a gentle voice. "The way this works is that you give me your opinions on how magic should work — any kind of opinion, no matter how strange or improbable seeming. And then I send your feedback to my bosses, along with the responses from everyone else, and put it together into a single recommendation for how magic should work."

"So if you want to use old folk stories as a reference or a starting point, that's totally fine. But if you have some other kind of magic in mind, that's fine too."

"Well, there are - probably in theory infinitely many actually, but surely at least a thousand at an absolute lower bound meaningfully distinctive ways for magic to work- I, um, read a lot? And the worst writing sin that I cannot tolerate is characters who use magic stupidly!"

Hammond nods sympathetically.

"It is, if anything, worse when people use magic stupidly in real life," he agrees. "Would you prefer a system of magic that's hard to misuse, do you think? Such as one that operates purely in the background, not subject to any one person's manipulations?"

"That's... No, then there's no choice going into it at all, is there? My problem is- Okay, so there's this one book where the hero gets, basically, weather and terraforming magic. There's a lot of things you can do with that, a great clanhold with year-round perfect weather, a caravanner who passes arid plain and mountain pass with equal ease, or a shipmaster who the wind and waves always love. You could trade, you could build alliances, you could help people- And this character uses it for revenge. In the stupidest, short-term-est possible ways. Summoning storms and breaking the earth into crags upon their enemies. Which generates more enemies. Instead of the - simplest, leanest gesture of cooperation, it's like this one person took it upon herself to burn down as much of the commons as she possibly could. Paranoid bitch. But she was the one with magic, wasn't she, so it's not like anyone could stop her... Which I think is maybe the point of the story in the end. Individual power can lead to ruin."